For the last year I've been driving a car that defies all stereotypes for a person like me. A mom, middle aged, relatively boring.

I drive a Subaru WRX. Yep, that's the car that 18-24 year old boys all lust after. Speedy, manual shift, quick, compact. I have no business in such a car! But here I am, driving it daily.

Each time I go to a Jiffy Lube or similar business to get my car's oil changed, the 19 year old male employees go nuts. "Wow, is this your car?" they'll ask, with a confused look on their face. "Yes," I'll respond, sheepishly. "THIS IS MY DREAM CAR!" They will undoubtedly exclaim every single time. "DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THIS CAR?"

Truth is, I didn't like the car at all, mostly because I'm a spoiled brat and somewhat because having a manual transmission car seems incredibly useless to me (if a car can shift itself, why would I want to go through the effort myself?); but also because I'm a 97 year old woman with sciatica trapped in a 38 year old woman's body. Getting in and out of it is hard because it's low to the ground, and pushing the super-hard-to-push clutch down to shift is kinda painful.

However, I'm proud to say that I have embraced the car as my destiny, and I have finally discovered deep down that I have a natural, carnal need for speed. That car is freaking fun and FAST. So, while I am a suburban mom, I no longer have any hesistation to put on my mom jeans, throw my kids and dog in the car, and bolt to the grocery store, Fast and the Furious style.